Good afternoon, Master Raife, he said. Im very sorry to hear all this ere bad news about your father, Master Raife. I beg your pardon, Master Raife, I suppose as ow as I ought to carl yer Sir Raife now, sir. Beg your pardon, Master Raife I mean Sir Raife, sir!
In spite of the heavy load on his mind, Raife smiled, and, laying his hand on the old mans shoulders, said cheerily, No, Twisegood, I hope I shall always be Master Raife to you and to some others. Yes! Twisegood, its a sad case and Im much troubled. Ive come to you to help me.
Lud a mussy, sir, help ee! What can I do to help the likes o you? Ill help, sure enough, if I can help. Now tell me, Master Raife, what can. I do for ee?
When Raife was a lad, and a mischievous lad, there were many scrapes out of which he had been lifted by old Twisegood. Before the old man inherited the public-house that had been a post-house, he had worked, as many of his ancestors had, on the Remington estates.
There still remains, in spite of the spirit of unrest and agitation, which, rightly or wrongly, pervades the land, a strong sympathy between the old families and their tenants and retainers. Twisegood was of the type that made true knighthood, when knight-errantry was in a cause that they felt to be good. The Twisegoods had been retainers of the Reymingtounes since the Tudors, and the spirit of loyalty was strong within him when the young master had said, Ive come to you to help me. Raife smiled again and said: I dont want much, Twisegood, I want you to let me have the long white room overlooking the stable-yard. I want you to see that the shutters will bolt firmly from within, and see to it that when the lamp is lit no light can be seen from without.
Is that all you want. Master Raife? Ill see to that sure enough. When do you want the room, sir?
Raife replied: I want to go up there now, but you can see to the other things later.
Yes, sir. I dont know whether the room be tidy or no, but come along o me.
They went up a wide staircase with twisted solid oak balustrades, to a wide landing on the first floor. The old man produced a bunch of large keys which jingled until he found one to fit the rusty lock, which turned with difficulty. The door creaked when it reluctantly opened, and they entered together. A faded scent of lavender met them. A yellow film of warm sunlight filtered through the white blinds that hung from the bay window. A white drugget covered the faded carpet, which showed slightly at the edges a dull crushed pink. A huge four-post wooden bedstead hung with white dimity. A white ceiling surmounted, and a white wall paper, with pale pink roses confined within vertical stripes of dull yellow, surrounded the room. Two ancient high-backed chairs covered in holland, and a more modern deep-set, low-lying arm-chair, covered in the same material, faced a huge fireplace of shining black metal. Fire-dogs, fender and fire-irons hammered from steel. A vast copper coal-scuttle of simple, almost crude shape, well charged with coal, stood at the side of the white supports of a deep white mantel-shelf.
There were no pictures on the walls. White candelabra and china vases of quaint shape stood before a small, and very imperfect, mirror on the mantel-shelf. Long white curtains hung in front of the bay window. The whole effect of this big white room, bathed in a warm glow of filtered sunlight, was startling. To Raife it was soothing. Twisegood crossed to pull up the blinds.
Dont do that, Raife said, as he walked to yet another white curtain which screened a small door. The key was in the door. He opened it. It led to a narrow winding stairway with a strong oak door at the bottom. He called to Twisegood for the key. The stairs creaked as the burly old man descended and placed the key in the lock and turned it. That will do. Give me the key. Have the lock oiled, and buy some soft carpet and put it on this stairway. This leads into the loose box, doesnt it? or have you altered the stalls lately?
No, sir! They be just the same as when you stayed here last, sir.
They ascended the crooked stairway, returning to the white room. Raife stood in front of the fireplace gazing at a small miniature on the mantel-shelf. At a glance it appeared to be the only pictorial ornament in the room. Neatly framed in a thin ebony oval was the most beautiful enamel of a womans face in high, powdered head-dress, and an exquisitely-modelled bust. Raife picked it up and, looking at the back of the frame, read this inscription pasted on:
To William Twisegood for a brave service rendered.
How did you get this, Twisegood? asked Raife.
Why, sir! That be a long time ago, sir, when I wur not moren a lad. I be oldern wot your father was, and there come along a day when he wor down along the copse by Tyser Wood, and the young master, he was then, and he was a good plucked un. He had his gun along o him and was out after rabbits just afore the first, when the partridges open the season. I be going along atop among the turmits, when I hears him a ordering some fellers off his ground. I listens, and presently theres a scuffling. I slips down through all the bracken and bramble, and there I sees him a scrappin hard, with all the blood a streaming down his face. There was Nick Blacker and Bill Boneham, each a holdin a lurcher dog, whilst Nicks three sons was a pasting the young master as hard as they could. But they wasnt a getting all their own way, for he was mighty quick with his fists, was Master Harry. They didnt see me a coming. I ups with a couple of bits o rock-stone and I aims at Dick. I hits him clean and down he goes. I as a stout ash stick in my and and I rushes up to Bill. Before he has time to know wots up, I lands him a good un. Then I shouts to make believe that theres others a coming. Nick gets up and off they all start on a full run.
Well, Master Harry! he was young those days, and thought I was brave. So he gave me that miniature and told me as ow it was his grandmother. But bless yer, Master Raife, that wasnt all he gave me.
The old man stopped for want of breath. He had lived his fight over again.
Is there anything I can get for you, sir? he asked.
Yes, Twisegood, have you got any of Mrs Twisegoods home-made wines left?
Why, yes, sir. Twouldnt be the old Blue Boar, if we hadnt got some of that. Or would you rather have some of her sloe gin? That was a drink of the old coaching and posting days. Try some, sir.
All right, thanks, bring me some of that.
Raife sat in the deep arm-chair and his mind was a whirlwind of mixed thought and emotion. On the one hand, the mystery of his fathers murder had not been revealed at the inquest. Nor had any light been thrown upon his fathers dying words that cryptic utterance which rang in his ears with a dull insistence that maddened him.
Tell him to be careful to be wary of the trap every man has a skeleton in his cupboard this is mine. Then those last three fateful words: her that woman. Who is that woman? If he only knew. His father fought three lads in the copse at Tyser Wood, as he had just learnt from Twisegood: that was easy. To fight an unknown woman, to be wary of a trap that is hard.
The full force of an August sun still bathed the world in its glorious light, and the warm glow came through those drawn white blinds of this mysterious white room. In spite of that, Raife shivered.
Old Mr Twisegood returned with the sloe gin. Raife said: Although its August and the sun is shining, I feel cold. Let us light that fire. Soon the hearth roared with crackling flames, and Raife was left to himself and his troubled thoughts.
Old Mr Twisegood returned with the sloe gin. Raife said: Although its August and the sun is shining, I feel cold. Let us light that fire. Soon the hearth roared with crackling flames, and Raife was left to himself and his troubled thoughts.
The white room of the Blue Boar had been famous for many generations. The secret stairway leading into the loose box in the stable had formed the means of many an escapade, and young Sir Raife was very familiar with its possibilities.
To-day he merely wanted to reflect, and the peaceful atmosphere and general air of quietude suited his mood.
Chapter Six
In the Southern Land of Adventure
Raifes passion for Gilda had been as sudden as it was fierce, and here, in the solitude of this strange white room, he allowed his pent-up feelings to obtain the mastery of him. Twisegood having closed the door, Raife paced up and down the long room with rapid strides, reiterating his admiration for her beauty. At length, he decided to return to Aldborough Park. On his way he sent a telegram and eagerly awaited a reply on the following morning, but no reply arrived.
The thousand and one details that surround the funeral of the head of an old family are very trying to those who are responsible for the dignity of the function and its safe conduct. Raife had been sorely tried in his position as the new head of the family.
At last the ceremony was completed and most of the mourners had returned to their homes. With a haste that attracted attention, at least, in some quarters, he went to Southport, and then called at the Queens, and, having asked for Miss Tempest, was rather surprised when the hall-porter handed him a note. He hastily tore it open and read:
Dear Mr Remington Our friendship is forbidden. For your sake and for mine forget me.
Gilda Tempest.The keenness of a young mans passion is only enhanced by obstacles. Mystified and baffled, Raife yet repeated his resolve to find the girl who had enthralled him.
Many weeks passed by at Aldborough Park, where the bailiffs and stewards of the estates foregathered with the solicitors of the family for the purpose of installing the new regime. Raife was somewhat impatient of the tedious nature of much of the work. To get away from the monotony, he hid himself several times in the long white room of the Blue Boar.
He was sitting there, one afternoon, deeply abstracted and cursing the luck that had robbed him of that mysterious girl whom he loved, when he heard footsteps on the secret stairway that led to loose box in the stable. Hastily drawing the white curtain aside by opening the little door, he was confronted by his old college chum, Edward Mutimer, in whose company he had been when he met Gilda Tempest.
Why, he exclaimed, what are you doing here, Mutimer?
Mutimer laughed, and said: Well, I went up to the Park, and no one knew where to find you. I guessed you were a bit tired of parchments and documents, so I took my chance of finding you here. I asked old Twisegood, but he wouldnt give you away. But, somehow, I thought his manner was a bit strange, so I thought of the loose box and the old stairway and here I am!
Good! Im glad to see you, Mutimer. You were quite right, Im tired to death of parchments, leases and settlements, and Ive been coming here lately to get away from them. Weve had some fun in this old room when we were kids, havent we? Twisegoods a rare good sort, too. He never gave us away.
Well, I say, Raife, I didnt altogether come here to disturb you for nothing, said Mutimer. I think Ive got some news for you. I couldnt help noticing how keen you were on that girl we met one day at Southport.
Yes! yes! Go on! Gilda Tempest is her name. Where is she? almost shouted Raife, as he leapt from his chair, grasping Mutimers arms with a grip that made his friend wince.
Easy all, old chap, a little bit softer. I think I know where she is. You know she was staying with her uncle at the Queens. Well, they left there quite suddenly, just after your governor died. I was at the railway station and saw her and her uncle. They had not much luggage. As I was at the booking-office window, I heard the old man whisper to her: When we get to town we must wire for rooms. Nice is a busy place, and the Hôtel Royal is liable to be crowded.
Thanks for what youve told me. Mutimer, Im just crazy over that girl. Ill follow her to the ends of the earth, but she shall be mine. Yes, by jove! Gilda Tempest shall be mine. Mutimer! Im not a murderer by nature, but I could slay the man who gets between me and that woman.
By the by, Raife, said his friend, apparently disregarding the confession of love, did anything come to light over your governors dying words. It was something about a trap, and there was a woman in it, wasnt there?
No! nothing came to light. It looks as though Ive got a very first-class family skeleton in my cupboard. Raife said this reflectively, rather sadly. Then, bracing himself up, he exclaimed: Itll take several skeletons to scare me, however. I dont think Im either timid or nervous.
Ha! ha! Well, now for a trip to Nice, he added, with a dont-care-a-hang air, and be bothered to the lawyers for a time. Ill find Gilda Tempest. I swear I will, and her old uncle can be hanged for a meddlesome old ass.
It was in March when the young baronet, who in such tragic circumstances had just inherited large estates and twenty thousand pounds a year, arrived at the Hôtel Royal, on the Promenade des Anglais, at Nice.
His mother, the widowed Lady Remington, accompanied him. Having disposed of her ladyship in a cosy corner among the palms, Raife started on his hot-headed search for Gilda. He was not long disappointed, for in the big lounge of the hotel, not crowded at this moment, he saw Gilda, exquisitely dressed, and accompanied by a distinguished-looking old man.
The old gentleman was Doctor Danilo Malsano the uncle of Gilda Tempest. Doctor Malsano was tall, and there was a certain air of distinction about him. A superficial graciousness of manner disguised from the casual observer the sinister cast of his countenance.
He had long black hair, receding from a high forehead, leaving two circular, bald patches on either side. A powerful jaw, and somewhat hollow cheeks, with glittering white teeth and small ears, completed the clean-shaven appearance, with the exception of his eyes and bushy eyebrows.
More has been written on the subject of eyes than of any other portion of human anatomy, but Doctor Malsanos eyes were unique. At a glance they suggested a squint. Here was neither a squint nor an aggravated form of astigmatism. The right eye was of a steely blue, that pierced the observer with the sharpness of a gimlet. The left eye was a swivel eye, and served the purpose of preventing one from determining which eye was gazing at you. There is a certain type of Scotch sheep-dog which possesses eyes of the colour of the doctors left eye. It is almost colourless, and with a dark spot in the centre of the right iris.
The doctors striking appearance contrasted strongly with the fragile beauty of the fair-haired young girl, with the eyes of deep-blue, who walked by his side: narrow-waisted, delicate and slim, with a well-poised head on a rounded neck of alabaster whiteness. Raife devoured this vision with his eyes before crossing the foyer to her. The whole charm of the striking personality of the young girl was enhanced by that distinguished grace of style that characterises the refined in temperament. Raife crossed over to her and, with a bow, claimed her acquaintance. Gilda politely but frigidly declined the acquaintance, informing Raife that he was mistaken.